A midnight storm woke me up. Lightning crashed and thunder rolled. But like a passing goodbye kiss or a quick hug, it was gone before I knew it, and nothing much came of it. All the big activity happened over the hills to the south and southeast. Long tendrils of light weaved through the clouds, and every once in awhile big bolts would rise up from the ground. It was quite the show.

I returned to bed. The storms came again around 2:30 and this time the rain came with it, hard, and washed the porches clean, and blew into the dog-run. I was tired, however, and managed to sleep through this passage. Now the ground is once again wet, and as I look at the morning sky, I see lightning playing through the clouds of disturbed air off to the south as hot and cold air masses mix and get to know one another. It’s still a big show.

Nice way to start Fall, however, rain. I’m beginning to think it can sense my discovery of various patches of khaki weed, because I found some yesterday. Tried to dig them up but the ground was too hard. Now, it’s wet and I can get them, roots and all. Weird how things work out. In the end, it’s all good, and I mowed yesterday and cleaned out the branches of the fallen sumac and now that’s done, too. Just little chores that help life move along from one day to the next, and later this morning I believe I’ll do some wash.

John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver’s Tale